


Take Me Back to the Start

by HannahkinSkywalker



Series: What Would One Call A Relationship Between Two Psychotic Murderers? [1]
Category: Doctor Who, Sherlock - Fandom
Genre: M/M, Pain for my OTP, Teen!James, yaaaaaay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-13
Updated: 2013-10-13
Packaged: 2017-12-29 08:16:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1003087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HannahkinSkywalker/pseuds/HannahkinSkywalker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the Master's time with James, he struggles to cope on his own. Maybe if he took a wander through the criminal's timeline. Maybe he could help the boy he'd screwed up so badly..</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take Me Back to the Start

How many years had it been? 

 

The Master couldn't be sure. For him it must have been about ten years now since he'd been left on his own again. He told Jim that he would leave. Everyone left the Timelord. That was the way it had always been and would remain until he finally gave in and let himself die. Or at least, until he died and someone wasn't stupid enough to bring him back. 

 

Maybe he could go back. No, no he couldn't. Jim was gone, there was no way the Master could get to him now. 

 

Well, there was one way.

 

 But he couldn't think of that. What if he went further? To before everything went so wrong? He remembered something Jim had mentioned once. In his early twenties, James had been stuck on the streets. He hadn't had a proper home, and maybe.. Maybe the Master could help. That could make things all rights in his mind at least. 

There. The decision was made. He would at least try to make himself feel better by being selfish and seeing the human again.

 

He just wished he would only have to turn a corner to see him, rather than years.

 

~~..~~

 

James pushed himself over the fence, catching on it slightly. He tugged himself away, a sharp snag on the edge of the metal fence scraping along his arm. He hissed in pain, not bothering to check it over as he hurtled down the empty street. He turned corner after corner, the sound of the police chasing after him growing quieter and quieter. It was a while before he let himself relax. He leant against the wall, fighting to get his breath back. 

 

James hadn't moved from the spot a few hours later. He was too tired, and it wasn't exactly as if he had somewhere specific to stay anyway. He hadn't thought to check over the arm, though it had originally stung like a bitch, he was too busy keeping himself hidden from the shouts down the end of the streets that appeared every now and then. After another few minutes he looked down, his arm having long gone numb, but the fact that his shirt sleeve was now sticking to him was what alerted him to the sheer amount of blood coating his arm. He hadn't caught it that badly, had he? Now that he started to think about it, he was feeling a little...

 

The Master went back to about when James was nineteen. He thought that would be a good age. He'd made sure to remain silent as he prowled the streets, trying to find where James could be hiding. He knew the boy would be in London, but where?

 

He finally found him just as the boy began to slide down the wall. The Master had to fight not to rush over to him to hold him back up. He let him fall, slumped against the wall. After a moment, when James remained still, the Master made his way over. He checked his pulse, glad he'd brought some of his Gallifreyan medicine with him.

 

James had mentioned this before, that he'd hurt himself pretty badly, and had been too distracted with hiding himself to fix it, until a stranger helped him. He never really saw the man's face, but at that point, the criminal had realised that maybe he should start thinking about taking care of himself, that he could make a new start. 

 

Now the Master moved the unconscious boy's arm, letting out a sigh at how mangled James had let it get. He began to clean away the blood, checking over the gash. It was pretty nasty. He wiped some of the antiseptic over it, hoping it wouldn't get infected. It seemed the harsh sting was enough to rouse the boy. He hissed, head rolling to the side as he came to. He realised what was going on, and quickly pulled away from the man that to him was a stranger. He jerked back, cradling his arm as he tried to get away, fear evident in his eyes. 

 

"Hey, hey. It's fine. Let me help you." The Master stated, moving his hand away. He didn't want to alarm James any further. "Look at it, you know it's bad. Would you rather I took you to the hospital?" He tried, well aware of how the boy hated hospitals. 

 

"It's fine." James snapped, looking over the oddly coloured gloop that was now coating the wound. "The fuck is that?" He muttered, his head swimming. James tried to get himself standing, at least away from the Master but he was pushed down again. It was clear the boy was apprehensive. Why wouldn't he be? From what the Master knew, he'd been pushed into corners all his life, and he'd only just learnt to fight back. The Master kept a cool tone, pulling away. "It's fine, just something to clean it. You want that getting infected? Exactly, so why not listen to me?" He stated, pulling the arm back so he could work on it. James was going to argue anyway, so he might as well get on with it. 

 

James was still trying to pull away, growing a little more frantic. "Who are you, anyway?" He snapped, like an animal trapped in a corner. The Master only rolled his eyes. So James had always been stubborn. "An old friend, of sorts." He tried, looking up at the boy. "I was friends with your father, Alex?" He lied smoothly, knowing James somehow had always struggled to see the Timelord's lies. That caught James' attention. "You knew my.. My.." He mumbled, half shocked, half woozy from the blood loss. Then the anger set in. "So you know what happened. Why are you bothering to help me now?" He hissed, shifting where he sat again.

"Because I had no idea what happened to him, or your mother, did he stay with Katherine in the end? She was nice." He added as an extra touch. James' eyes narrowed, before giving a short nod. "Yes, she was my Mother." He murmured, clearly confused, but not fighting as much. "Oh good, she was always sweet. You look like her," well, the Master had no idea, but it was a good guess. It seemed to convince James, either way. 

 

"Why didn't you bother earlier then, if you knew them so well?" The boy tried, prying for information. The Master looked up, finding a quick excuse as he spread the medicine over James' arm. It seemed he had him distracted enough to help. "I had no idea they'd died. Even then, I don't think I'd have been the best of role models to step in." He smirked, grabbing a bandage to wrap over the arm. "So there's not much I can tell you, sorry." He murmured, sounding sincere. The boy seemed a little dejected by that, lowering his head ever so slightly. "Oh," He breathed. He'd hoped the stranger could at least tell him something about his parents. He hadn't known them for long. "I know." The Master started, taking a breath. "But I can tell you this. I know what kind of people your parents were, and if you're any son of theirs, you can get yourself together." James started to look agitated at this point. "No, hear me out. Both of them were extremely intelligent, and knew exactly how to get things to go their way. I can almost guarantee they'll have passed it down to you. You seem like a smart kid. I bet you'll have a way to get out of this. You've fallen far, yes. But they'd be so proud if you could pick yourself back up." He said, tying up the bandage with an air of finality. 

 

James was baffled. This man was here, out of nowhere, patching him up and trying to talk to him about this? It was ridiculous, but the stranger seemed to actually make sense. He could get out of this mess. He'd always hoped it, but there was never an option. "How? Look around, do you see many opportunities?" He stated, still unsure and defensive. "I can't tell you, James. You need to figure it out." The Master implored, already starting to reach into the boy's mind. "This is something you need to do on your own. I can't stay much longer, and I'm sorry for that." He said plainly, holding James' gaze. He crept undetected in the other's head, pulling the clarity of this memory. He couldn't have him fully knowing the Master had turned up. That wouldn't help at all. "Okay? You have to promise to pick yourself up. I know you can do this." He insisted.

James' eyes seemed to dull as his memories were unknowingly played with, but he nodded all the same. "I can try." He mumbled, even the short sentence beginning to slur. The Master left one little command in James' head, pulling away from the boy. "Good, just get some rest," he stated, noting James' eyes were already falling closed. He remained silent as James grew still, faltering to the side ever do slightly. He took a breath at the sight of him. So young, but with the shame narrow sharpness in his eyes, calculating, quick. It hurt more than he'd worried. After another moment of watching over the boy, he leant forward, pressing a kiss to his forehead before getting up to leave.

 

As he walked away to find the TARDIS, he shook his head, trying not to think about it. He'd done this before, gone into James' past. Only this time, his James wouldn't be there to frown at the new memory, to tell him off for fiddling with his timeline again. He couldn't think about that.

"Enough. Enough now."


End file.
